A Visit to the Pitcher’s Mound

The catcher called timeout and emerged from his crouch to approach the mound.

The pitcher was in real trouble. The bases were loaded with nobody out. The hurler looked relieved when his battery mate approached.

“Allright,” said the pitcher, speaking into his glove. “What should I throw here?”

“Oh man,” said the catcher, thinking this over.

He looked up to the sky.

He fidgeted in place, deep in thought.

He blew a raspberry into the air.

Then he looked at the pitcher and said: “I’d probably throw a baseball, here.”

The pitcher almost didn’t believe it. “What did you say?”

“You asked what to throw,” repeated the catcher, deliberately, “And I told you: a baseball. I don’t even think they’d let you throw anything else, dude. It’s a baseball game.”

“I meant what pi-”

“I mean can you imagine,” chuckled the catcher, almost doubling over in delight, “Coming out here and throwing a football? Or even worse, a basketball? Or something not even sports related, like a wrench or a lemon? I mean, you’d get laughed out the stadium, bro!”

The catcher burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter before saying, “I mean, what the hell is that guy with the wood stick going to do with a lemon?”

The pitcher grabbed the catcher by the shoulders. “I know I have to throw a baseball,” he said patiently. “I meant what kind of pitch should I throw.”

“Ah, well,” said the catcher. “That’s more specific. But the answer here is just as simple: a baseball pitch.”

“Are you serious?” said the pitcher. Just then, the umpire approached them.

“Let’s go, fellas,” barked the ump. “Wrap it up.”

“Wrap what up? The ball?” said the catcher.

“Excuse me?” hissed the ump, not happy at this apparent questioning of his authority.

“We’re going to throw the ball, not wrap it,” said the catcher in as patronizing a tone as he could take. “And what are we supposed to wrap it up with? Saran wrap? Tin foil? Don’t tell me…wrapping paper? I got news for you, pal: I wouldn’t be…